


i think i'm still turning out

by the_tenerife_sea



Series: still turning out [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Single Parent Shane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 16:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13745073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_tenerife_sea/pseuds/the_tenerife_sea
Summary: Shane is starting to think Ryan is using him for his baby, considering how much he’s already talked her up to all of their coworkers and friends.____Or the one where Shane is a new parent, and Ryan is always there for him (and his daughter, of course).





	i think i'm still turning out

**Author's Note:**

> This is so fluffy and pointless, but I love living out my baby fantasies through Shane Madej.
> 
> Also I wrote this in like...one day because I could not get it out of my head.
> 
> (A few more things...Helen doesn't exist in this AU, and Sara's character is only used for plot purposes. It's fanfiction.)
> 
> Please enjoy!
> 
> Title from Turning Out by AJR

Two weeks after Ruth Alexandrea Madej was born, Sara leaves a note.

She must’ve left right after Shane fell asleep, because it’s one in the morning and he can hear his daughter’s wailing through the tiny speaker next to his head, but Sara is nowhere to be found.

All she left was a note.

_Went to my parents’ house. I need some time to think about stuff._

_I’m sorry_.

Shane crumples the paper in his fist and goes to the kitchen to warm a bottle for Ruth.

 

——

 

“I’m so sorry, Shane,” Sara says for the hundredth time.

He’s holding their daughter as she packs up her things from their apartment,  _his_  apartment now.

“I’m not cut out for this,” she says for the fiftieth time.

He stopped trying to argue with her after the tenth time. Stopped trying to tell her that they could make it work. They _had_ to. They have a kid now. A kid that  _needs_ them.

But Sara has decided that being a parent isn’t what she wants.

It’s selfish of her, but he can’t say that he doesn’t understand. They’d never really talked about kids, before Ruth, and before they knew it, it was their reality. Shane had convinced her that they could do it, that they would be okay.

But she isn’t okay.

So he lets her go.

Maybe someday they’ll get back together and everything will work out, he thinks wistfully. Maybe Sara will want to be in Ruth’s life again, in time.

But right now, his daughter is his number one priority.

 

—— 

 

Letting Ryan meet his child was a mistake.

First, he brought a ridiculously large teddy bear, much too large for a two-month-old, it’s bigger than her, and second—

“Why hello Babe Ruth.” 

Fucking Babe Ruth. 

“Ryan,” Shane pulls Ruth out of his reach. “My daughter is not a candy bar.”

Ryan splutters, “A candy bar? Seriously Shane?” He sets the stuffed bear on the kitchen counter. “What about, like, one of the best baseball players of all time? The person the candy bar was  _named_  after?”

Shane rolls his eyes, “Well, she’s not that either. Stop ruining her name. Did you wash your hands?”

“Not ruining,” Ryan protests. “Just giving her a taste of what she’ll get for the rest of her life.” He says it like he’s just solved a complicated math problem. “And you texted me that before I even came. I said yes.”

“She’ll be so happy to learn that you were the first person to call her that, then,” Shane says dryly. “And you’ve been  _touching_  things since I texted you.”

Ryan puts his hands up in defense. His dirty, germ-filled hands. “Alright! Fine. Washing them again.”

“Thank you,” he says. “...and Ruth is a good name,” Shane feels the need to add. It  _is_ a good name. He likes it.  _Loves_ it. It’s his daughter’s name. Of course he loves it.

“It’s a great name,” Ryan says, over exaggeratedly pumping soap into his hands. “Why’d you pick it?”

Shane answers him easily, staring down at the little person in his arms. “She looked like a Ruth.” He had thought about names before she was born, obviously, Sara said he could be the one to name her, but as soon as he saw her, she was just... _Ruth._  The second she was born, she already seemed wise beyond her years (or her minutes, more like). She barely even cried, just stared at him with big, glossy blue eyes that look more and more like his own every day. A little old lady in a baby’s body. Her pink wrinkly skin also may have had something to do with that, though.

Ryan dries off his hands with a paper towel. “May I touch her now?”

Shane wants to roll his eyes again. “Yes, you may touch her now.” 

Ryan doesn’t ask to hold her, just reaches out and lets Ruth grasp his fingers in a vice grip. “Hello, Ruth. How are you today?”

“Careful, she won’t give those back now,” Shane says. “She might even stick em’ in her mouth.”

Ryan pulls his fingers away from her gently, his voice becoming higher pitched and his words more elongated as he speaks. “Don’t need that now, do we?” He says, eyes still focused on Ruth. “Who knows where these hands have been.”

“You don’t know where your own hands have been?”

“Shut up, Shane.” And the baby talk is over. “It’s a figure of speech.”

Shane covers Ruth’s ear that isn’t against his chest. “Don’t swear in front of my daughter.” 

“Shut up is not a swear. With you as her dad, I’d be surprised if her first word isn’t ‘fuck’.” 

“Okay, now that was a real swear!” Shane turns his back to Ryan and heads for the living room, hand still covering Ruth’s tiny ear. “Ryan is sorry, Ruthie.” He coos, bouncing her lightly. “He didn’t mean it.”

Shane hears Ryan following him. “I meant it,” he grumbles. Shane can see his pout in his mind's eye. 

He lets Ryan settle in on the couch, arms crossed and very much pouting, when he asks, “Do you wanna hold her?”

The way Ryan’s eyes light up with excitement makes something tighten in Shane’s chest. “Can I?”

“Of course.” Shane answers. As if he’d say no. Ryan is his best friend. He’ll have to get used to hanging out with a baby if it’s gonna stay that way.

Shane lowers Ruth into Ryan’s arms. “Make sure you support her head, she can lift it on her own now mostly but it’s not good for her neck—”

“I know how to hold a baby, Shane,” Ryan interrupts him, and Shane lets him, staying silent and watching Ryan. He’s staring down at Ruth’s chubby cheeks with awe in his eyes, his finger softly running across her baby-smooth skin. “You’re lucky you don’t look anything like your dad when he was a baby.” He boops her gently on the nose with his knuckle. “He was ugly. Trust me, I’ve seen the pictures,” he says, like he’s telling her some secret.

Shane doesn’t even argue, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch so he doesn’t jostle it too much. “You’re absolutely right.” He kicks his feet up. “She’s already well surpassed me in the looks department.” 

He continues to watch Ryan get acquainted with his daughter. Ruth’s eyes are wide open and staring right back at Ryan, her hands flailing, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind. “She’s got your eyes,” he says, so softly that Shane almost doesn’t hear him. “And she’s very quiet. Shocker.”

“Just wait till 3am,” Shane says, rubbing his eyes. Now that he’s comfy on the couch without a baby in his arms, he’s definitely feeling the exhaustion of the past few weeks catching up to him.

“How are you holding up?” Ryan asks, reading his mind. He adjusts Ruth slightly in his hold.

Shane sighs. Now that Ryan’s here, he’s starting to feel  _everything_. The physical and emotional exhaustion that was lying dormant in the presence of only his daughter finally making itself known. “I’m okay.”

“Your mom went back home three weeks ago, right?”

“Yeah.” When Sara left for good, Shane’s mom flew out right away. She stayed and helped him figure everything for a couple weeks, from work and asking for paternity leave, to changing diapers correctly and making bottles that weren’t too hot, before flying back to Illinois. He misses her.

“Have you figured out what you’re gonna do when you come back to work in two weeks?”

Shane yawns, Ryan’s questions taking even more of a toll on his poor, sleep-deprived brain. He’s so fucking  _tired._ He closes his eyes. “Not yet.” 

He doesn’t know if Ryan answers him, because he’s asleep the second the words leave his mouth. 

 

——

  

Shane wakes up slowly, which is nice considering the only way he’s woken up for the past two months was abrupt and unsatisfying because Ruthie was screaming her head off—

Wait.

 _Ruth._ Where’s Ruth.

He jumps up from the couch so fast he’s dizzy with it. Don’t tell him he’s lost his baby, he’s had nightmares about this. Where the fuck is his baby?

Did he put her in her crib before he fell asleep? When did he fall asleep? Oh god, what _time_  is it?

He frantically runs his hands through his hair as he races to the kitchen to check the clock on the microwave when—

Oh right. Ryan.

Ryan is in his kitchen, stirring something in a pot on the stove, and Ruth is sound asleep in the bouncy chair Shane keeps on the dining table, pacifier in her mouth and hands covered in her little mittens. 

“Oh good, you’re up,” Ryan says when he notices him, not mentioning how he probably looks flushed and panicked. “I’m not trying to tell you how to parent, but you should cut Ruth’s nails. She scratched my face. I think she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Shane says automatically, his body carrying him over to where Ruth is lying before his mind really registers it. “Her only emotions are ‘hungry’ and ‘I pooped’.”

“But she was smiling before! I got her to smile.” Ryan says, like it’s some grand accomplishment, when in reality babies smile when they do practically anything, like fart, for example. He won’t tell Ryan that, though.

“Then why would you think she hates you?” Shane teases him, and Ryan shrugs.

“I wouldn’t consider babies my forte.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Shane answers, rubbing Ruth’s tummy with the back of his hand. “What are you making?”

“Just heating up some soup,” he answers. There’s a pause before he says, “I hope that’s okay.” 

“It’s more than okay.” Shane is  _starving_. “You didn’t have to make me dinner.”

“Well, I was hungry too. So you’re not  _that_ special.”

Shane laughs a bit at that. “Sorry I fell asleep on ya,” he apologizes. He should feel more embarrassed about it than he currently does, but who knew a couch could be so comfortable when you haven’t slept through the night in months?

“You looked like you needed it, dude.” And Shane is about to reply with a  _gee, thanks,_  when Ryan says, “Why didn’t you ask me to come over before this? I could’ve helped you, you know.”

Shane is sort of at a loss for words. “I...I didn’t think of it. I don’t know.” He didn’t need to be bothering Ryan with all his new baggage. Not that Ruth is  _baggage_  per se, but she certainly isn’t something that comes with a normal friendship.

Ryan is more in tune with him than he thinks. “It’s probably been really hard on you,” he empathizes. “I mean, Sara leaving, taking care of a fucking _baby_ —”

“Language,” Shane interrupts, trying to lighten the mood and avoid whatever  _feelings_   _talk_  Ryan is trying to initiate.

Ryan laughs, which is a better outcome than what Shane originally wanted, and makes him feel proud, for some reason. “She’s sleeping.” Ryan still presses, though. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Shane leans back against the table and crosses his arms over his chest defensively. “I mean, yeah. I don’t know what you want me to say. I kinda have to be, don’t I?”

“Who says?” Ryan stops stirring the soup to face him.

“Me.”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re very qualified.”

“I’m plenty qualified,” Shane says, but it’s a half-ass rebuttal. “Like you said, I need to take care of Ruth. I don’t have time for my own feelings right now.”

“Which is why you should’ve called me,” Ryan argues, crossing his own arms. “You need to take care of yourself too. I mean, you fell asleep for two hours as soon as someone else was here to hold your kid.” 

“Two hours? Jesus.” Shane rubs a hand down his face, scratching his beard. He needs to shave. “I’m sorry, Ry. Was she fussy?”

“A little,” Ryan says. “But I gave her a bottle and she was fine.”

Shane wants to —  _could_ kiss him. Yeah, that’s the saying. God, he’s still so fucking tired.

“Thank you, seriously,” Shane says to him. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

“Then ask for help more,” Ryan answers simply.

And Shane doesn’t have an argument for that.

 

——

 

Ryan comes over almost every day after work.

Shane had hired a nanny when he went back to Buzzfeed. A nice, middle-aged woman whose youngest just went off to college. Says she started nannying to deal with her empty nest syndrome.

It made Shane think about Ruth going to college, which, hiring a nanny was already overwhelming enough, he doesn’t need to be thinking about _that_ yet. No thanks.

Ryan insisted on meeting her after his first day back at work, and Shane didn’t put up much of a fight against it. Shane is starting to think Ryan is using him for his baby, considering how much he’s already talked her up to all of their coworkers and friends.

But after that day, Ryan following Shane home from work to hang out with him and Ruthie becomes part of their routine. 

 

——

 

“Shane!” Ryan calls from the living room, and Shane’s first instinct is to panic.

He was heating up a bottle for Ruth, but that’s all forgotten as soon as Ryan yells for him.

“What?” He says, rushing into the room to see...Ryan sitting there with his daughter. “Why did you have to  _yell_ , Ryan. Jesus, I thought she was dying.”

“Look at her!” Ryan gestures towards Ruth and...she’s just sitting there, staring back at Shane with the same enthusiasm Shane is experiencing right now.

“She’s...uh...she’s sitting?”

“Exactly!” Shane still doesn’t understand why Ryan is so excited, but he quickly fills him in. “She’s only three-and-a-half-months and she’s sitting on her own! Most babies can’t support themselves until they’re four months at least!”

“Oh,” Shane says. He walks over and bends down to meet Ruth’s eyes. “Good job, high five.” He grabs her hand and makes her give him a high five.

Ryan’s mouth is hanging open. “That’s it?” He sounds _pissed_ , almost. It’s kind of cute, actually, but Shane doesn’t dwell on that. “She just passed a huge milestone and all you have to say is ‘good job’?” Ironically, as he’s speaking, Ruth is slowly falling over sideways onto the blanket Ryan had spread out over the floor. He swears (“Shit, I mean, shoot.”), and rights her.

“Maybe she isn’t quite there yet,” Shane says, laughing at Ryan’s crestfallen expression. “How do you know all this stuff, anyway?”

“I’ve been reading,” he says, but his attention is already back on Ruth. “It’s okay, Ruth.” He says to her, seriously. “We’ll get there eventually.”

Shane rolls his eyes at them, biting his lip to keep from smiling too wide, and walks back into the kitchen.

 

——

  

It’s Ryan’s idea to bring Ruth into work.

She’s almost five-months-old, and Ryan won’t shut up about socialization and how beneficial it would be for her to meet new people besides Shane, Ryan, Nancy the nanny, and the random people at stores they go to, so Shane agrees so he’ll be quiet (which is how most of their conversations go, come to think of it).

It’s been ten minutes and Shane is already anxious about all the hands reaching for his baby. The dirty, unwashed hands that could make his baby girl _sick_ —

But Ryan is already on top of that, pulling a bottle of hand sanitizer seemingly out of his ass, and making sure everyone uses it on their hands thoroughly before they touch or hold Ruth.

Now here he is, barely an hour into the workday, sitting at his desk and wondering where the fuck Ryan Bergara took his baby.

He had offered to change her diaper, which Shane wasn’t going to pass him up on, and he’s been gone for fifteen fucking minutes. Shane is about to go to the bathroom himself or call the police in the next _five_ if Ryan doesn’t come back with Ruth soon.

Ryan finally appears three minutes later, entering from where the bathrooms are most certainly _not_ located, Ruth on his hip and diaper bag over his shoulder. “Where were you?” Shane asks, hoping his anxiety isn’t evident. 

“Calm down,” Ryan says immediately. Apparently he wasn’t hiding it very well. “I told you I was gonna go change her diaper.”

Shane takes Ruth from Ryan, noticing how tuckered out she looks just from a diaper change as he puts the pieces together. “Ryan,” he starts slowly, trying to keep a smile from overtaking his face. “Were you showing off my baby?” 

“What?” Ryan answers, much too quickly. “No, what? Why would I do that.”

“Because she’s  _so cute_ ,” Shane says animatedly to Ruth, kissing her on the cheek. “And because you were changing her diaper for almost twenty minutes. I’ve seen you do it in like, less than two.”

“It was a messy one?” He tries.

“Ryan,” Shane says. “I’m just teasing you. It’s okay.”

“See, realistically, I  _know_ that, but she’s not my kid,” he says guiltily. “I probably should’ve asked you.” 

“I trust you with my kid, Ry,” he tells him honestly. More than he trusts himself, sometimes, admittedly. Shane never knew Ryan would be so great with kids, and definitely never pictured him being so great with Shane’s own daughter.

“I know,” Ryan says again, looking at his feet and scuffing his shoe on the ground. “I just love her, you know? Wanna show people how perfect she is.” He reaches out and fiddles with the little bow Shane had wrestled into Ruth’s hair morning. Surprisingly, she hasn’t ripped it out yet.

Shane knows the feeling Ryan is describing, though. The intense flood of emotions he gets when he thinks about Ruth,  _his_ Ruth. She’s only five-months-old and he’s already so  _proud_ of her. Shane can’t even imagine how it’ll be when she starts talking, when she becomes her own person. He might just explode with pride and love and every other cheesy thing that people say about being a parent.

And he knows Ryan loves her too, knows he would never do anything to put her in harm's way.

So Shane says, “I know,” also knowing that Ryan will understand exactly what he means.

 

——

 

Shane is toweling his hands off after finishing the dishes (Ryan had made spaghetti), and he’s about to ask Ryan when he’s planning on leaving, seeing as they have to go in to work early tomorrow, but the sight in front of him nearly makes him drop the rag in his hands.

Ryan’s got one of his hands curled protectively against Ruth’s back, the other dangling off the side of the couch, and they’re both sound asleep, Ruth resting on Ryan’s chest. It’s the cutest shit he’s ever seen.

He turns around to grab his phone off the charger, taking a picture and making it his lock screen background.

Shane doesn’t want to ruin their perfect little bubble, but Ryan really should get going. He takes Ruth first, Ryan’s arm sliding down to his side when he picks her up, and brings her to her room. Thankfully, she doesn’t wake up, even when he changes her into pajamas. He’s only just been able to get her to sleep through the night, which Shane thought would be only be wishful thinking at one point, Ruth was such a bad sleeper. He’s happy he was wrong though, grateful for the extra hours of sleep, especially because six months is young for that. Ryan constantly reminds him that Ruthie is ‘very mature for her age’, however.

He goes back out to the living room and gently shakes Ryan. “Hey, dude. You fell asleep.”

Ryan’s eyes flutter open, squinting at Shane. He sucks in a breath and sits up, some of the hair at the top of his head sticking straight into the air. It’s almost as cute as when Ruth’s hair does that. Ryan rubs his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles, getting up, but Shane grabs his shoulder.

“Stay.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out so quiet, so intimate. He clears his throat. “Why don’t you just stay the night? You look too tired to drive.”

Ryan doesn’t even protest. “Okay,” he says, settling back onto the couch, but Shane keeps talking, surprising even himself, “We’ll sleep in my bed.”

And,  _really Madej? ‘We’? Way to make the situation so much less awkward._

Ryan looks at him with bleary eyes. “You sure?” And his voice is low and gravelly, and it’s—

It’s kind of hot.

Shane  _really_ needs to get laid, if thinking his best friend’s morning voice is hot is any indication.

He tugs on Ryan’s arm, now ready to get to sleep as quick as possible so his mouth will stop talking and his brain will stop thinking. “Yeah, c’mon.”

Shane is trying to remember if he has a spare toothbrush, but Ryan is stripping off his pants and climbing into Shane’s bed before he can say anything.

“Okay,” he says to himself, going to change and brush his teeth. He wonders how long Ryan stayed up with the work he promised he didn’t bring home last night. Or maybe he’s been having dumb nightmares that make him wake up at the crack of dawn again.

He’ll have to ask him in the morning, because right now, he obviously needs his sleep.

Shane sets the baby monitor up on his bedside table, crawling into bed next to his best friend and falling asleep quicker than he thought he would, considering he hasn’t had a bed mate for the past six months.

That was the first night Ryan stayed over, but certainly wasn’t the last.

It was also the first time Ryan and Shane woke up spooning, too. They don’t talk about it, or all the other times it happens after that, either.

 

——

 

It all comes to head when some lady stops him in the grocery store.

Ruth is sitting in the cart and Shane is attempting to snap a picture to send to Ryan because she looks so  _fucking_   _cute_  in the little red beret his mom just sent him, and Ryan would get a kick out of any baby in a beret probably, when— 

“What a cute baby!”

Shane turns towards the voice, and it belongs to an elderly woman that looks like the most stereotypical grandmother he’s ever seen, cat sweatshirt and all. He sees Ruth rip off the hat out of the corner of his eye and curses the lady for distracting him from taking a photo. 

“Thank you,” he answers her, hoping to get out of the aisle as quickly as possible before this woman thinks she knows him well enough to do something like, god forbid,  _touch_  his child, but unfortunately, she isn’t finished.

“I wished my husband did the grocery shopping when the kids were little,” she says, putting a hand over her heart and effectively beheading one of the kittens on her chest. “Make sure you let your wife know how lucky she is! If she makes kids as cute as that, she deserves it.”

“I, um. Actually,” Shane doesn’t know why he continues the conversation instead of just giving her another polite ‘thank you’, but something possesses him to correct her. “I don’t have a wife.”

“Oh.” The lady’s smile is still plastered on her face. “Girlfriend?”

Shane shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Well, good for you,” and Shane genuinely can’t tell if her sentiment is fake or not. “I wish you the best in getting a mother for that child soon.”

And — she’s probably joking, right? She’s definitely just trying to make a joke, but that doesn’t explain why Shane’s stomach suddenly drops to his feet. “Okay, thank you, bye,” he mutters past the lump that’s formed in his throat. Why didn’t he just say that before and end the exchange two minutes ago, before he started having an actual anxiety attack?

He switches gears and pushes his cart towards the checkout. He wasn’t even finished shopping, but he thinks he’ll puke if he stays in the store any longer.

Ruth is babbling at him, which calms him down slightly, but he can still feel his heart beating in his ears. How dare that women suggest he’s incapable of raising his daughter without a mother? How  _dare_ she assume that—

His phone rings, and Ruth lets out a shriek at the noise. He rubs her arm over her little striped sweater as he answers. “Hello?”

“Hey, bud.” It’s Ryan, but Shane already knew that. “Am I still okay to come over tonight?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’m just finishing up at the store. You can probably start heading over. I’ll meet you there." 

“Okay, sweet. See you.”

“See you.”

Shane hangs up and starts unloading the items in his cart onto the conveyor belt. Either he had forgotten that Ryan was coming over, or Ryan just sort of invited himself and assumed it was a given (which happens more often than you would think), but either way, the thought of seeing Ryan soothes any remaining anxiety in Shane’s chest.

 

——

  

When he pulls into the parking garage, Ryan is waiting for him.

“Thought I’d help you with the groceries.” He says, and Shane doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve Ryan Bergara as a best friend.

And when Ryan helping with the groceries turns into Ryan only carrying a talkative Ruth (“She’s wearing a beret! You look so cute in your beret, don’t you?”) upstairs while Shane carries all of the bags, at least Ryan is helping him in _some_ way. He just doesn’t know it’s for emotional reasons, yet.

 

——

  

Ryan puts Ruth in her bouncy seat on the dining table so she can watch them, then helps Shane unpack the groceries.

“So,” Ryan says. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Am I?” Shane pretends to not know what he’s talking about.

“You didn’t even protest when I didn’t bring up any bags.”

“You had Ruth.”

Ryan scoffs. “Like that would’ve stopped you from complaining about something.” He hates how Ryan can see right through him. 

“Something happened at the store,” he confesses. No sense in dragging this out.

Ryan’s face does that stupid thing where his eyes widen and his mouth forms into a little ‘o’. “Is Ruth okay?”

Shane’s heart does _not_ melt at the fact that Ryan’s first concern was Ruth. It  _doesn’t._  

“Ruthie is fine, Ry.” Shane can’t help but chuckle at the immediate relief he sees on Ryan’s face.

“So what happened then?” Ryan finally asks.

Shane methodically removes a tub of yogurt and a box of Ryan’s favorite popcorn from a plastic bag. “Some lady wished me luck on finding a mother for Ruth.”

Ryan’s brows furrow. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah.” Shane agrees, but… “But what if she’s right?”

Ryan freezes, his hand wrapped around a box of applesauce. “What do you mean?”

“Does Ruth need a mom? I mean...having a single parent is one thing. But she’s a girl. Doesn’t she need female role models or some shit?”

Ryan hits his hand. “Language.”

“She’s like half asleep over there. She’s not even listening.”

Ryan ignores him. “Shane,” he says, serious. “Ruthie doesn’t need a mom. You’re more than enough for her. Her female role model or whatever doesn’t have to be a parent.” He turns to put the applesauce in the fridge. “And look at all the gay couples with kids. Those kids have _two_ dads and no mom, or vice versa. They turn out just fine.”

Shane sighs. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just worried she’s gonna miss out on stuff because—”

“How do you think they decide what their kids call them?”

“I—” Shane stutters. “What?”

“Gay parents.” He clarifies, which is _barely_  a clarification. “Like, who’s dad and who’s papa.”

“I...I don’t know.” And Shane doesn’t really know where _this_ is going, either. “I’m already Dad, so.” 

“I feel like I’d be Papa,” Ryan says, casual as ever, putting away Shane’s groceries.

In Shane’s apartment.

Talking about himself as a father.

( _Not to your daughter_ , he starts chanting in his head, but the implication is still  _there_.)

And Shane is suddenly... _feeling_ things. Not bad things, but... _things._

What the fuck is going on.

Ryan just continues cleaning up Shane’s kitchen, like he belongs there, like what he said wasn’t something that friends probably wouldn’t say to each other, especially when the situation they’re talking about is more literal than hypothetical, to a certain extent. Like they’re Ruth’s  _dads._

Is that why he felt so defensive at the store? Because...because why would his daughter need a mother? Why on earth would she need a mother when she has a  _Ryan._

And...Shane, too. Why would Shane need a girlfriend or a wife when he has Ryan. 

Ryan has been there this whole time, and it’s like Shane is only just now seeing him.

  

——

  

Shane contemplates his  _feelings_ over Sesame Street.

Ruth shrieks and claps her hands any time Big Bird is on screen (“Probably because he’s practically your identical twin, Shane,”) and he hasn’t made his coffee yet. He would probably be more annoyed with his nearly eight-month-old baby if she wasn’t so damn cute.

Today is one of the rare days where Ryan isn’t gracing them with his presence, and it might just be in his head, but he thinks even Ruth notices the change. He doesn’t know when Ryan became so fixated in their home.

He also doesn’t know if that makes it easier or harder to think about his feelings.

Big Bird is no longer front and center, so Ruth squirms until Shane lets her down from his lap and she crawls over to her toy bin. Half the stuff in there is stuff Ryan bought for her, and it’s also the stuff she likes the most. Does that...That means something, right?

He doesn’t fucking know.

“Hey, Ruthie,” he says, but she just keeps banging her toy car on the floor. “Do I like Ryan?”

Her head snaps towards him, probably recognizing Ryan’s name (she didn’t even look at Shane when he said her _own_ name, come on Ruth, get it together), and crawls back over to him, bringing him her plastic car.

“Thank you,” he tells her seriously when she hands it to him. She seems satisfied with that and goes back over to the toy bin. 

Shane sighs, disappointed, as if he thought she would have some insight on how messed up his head feels. When do kids start becoming little philosophers? Or smart asses, as his parents often say he was when they reminisce about the time when he was a child.

They probably need to know how to talk first, which, despite Ryan’s efforts, Ruth will just not do. She never stops babbling, and to her, she’s probably saying some pretty smart shit, but none of it sounds like English words.

He wishes she could tell him if it was obvious that Ryan was becoming his more-than-friend. Maybe Ryan has told her that he feels the same.

Babies aren’t very smart, are they? Shane sighs. Ryan would probably hit him for insinuating that Ruth wasn’t smart. 

The thing is, he knows he’s bi, but he never saw himself settling down with a  _guy_ when he thought about his future. He thought he would have the stereotypical, picture-perfect life. Get married to a girl, start a family, grow old with her.

Well, he did one of those things. But he wasn’t married to the girl, and she left, so.

Back to square one? 

The stereotypical life he thought he would have was out the window the second Sara told him she was pregnant. But Shane doesn’t feel like he did when he realized he loved Sara.

Sara was excitement from the get-go, his emotions running high and the analytical part of his brain running low. Everything with Sara was a new chapter in a new story. What he feels for Ryan doesn’t feel anything like that.

What he feels for Ryan is like taking off your shoes when you come home after a long day at work, or settling into a jacuzzi hot tub (that actually works) when your muscles are aching. His story with Ryan has always felt like it was in motion, with no real beginning or end, like a worn book you read over again, so much that the pages are soft and frayed.

Ryan feels like relief and safety, and that realization thrills him more than anything he’s ever felt for Sara.

To anyone else, it probably looked like him and Ryan were already together. Ryan sleeps at his house more often than not, in his  _bed._  He makes Shane and Ruth feel happy and taken care of. Shane loves waking up next to him, wants to kiss him ( _has_  kissed him on the forehead before, blushing and claiming that he was tired and had just kissed Ruth on the forehead, and Ryan’s forehead just so happened to be next to hers), and wouldn’t mind if he moved in because his daughter loves him too.

Fuck.

He’s dating Ryan Bergara, isn’t he.

And he’s kind of in love with him. Shit.

...Does Ryan know this?

Shane has to find out.

  

——

  

They don’t have work the next day, so Ryan comes over as soon as he possibly can like he usually does on the days they don’t have work.

Shane is in the kitchen, psyching himself up, his morning coffee in his hands, when he hears him come in. 

(Shane had given him a key months ago. Fuck, they really are dating.)

Shane makes his way to the living room, leaning against the entryway that leads to the kitchen on the wall opposite of the front door. Ryan is completely focused on Ruth, though, and doesn’t notice him.

“Babe Ruth!” He says, and Ruth laughs, making grabby hands towards him from her playpen in the corner. He picks her up and kisses her head. “And what have you been up to today?”

Shane makes his presence known. “Eating blocks, mostly. That’s why she’s in baby-jail.”

Ryan jumps. “ _Jesus christ, Shane_. Don’t  _do_  that! I’m holding a baby! What if I dropped her?” He turns back to Ruth, sticking out his lower lip. She pokes at it. “What if your big, bad dad made me drop you? How could we ever forgive him—”

“Move in with us.”  _Smooth. Real fucking smooth, Madej._

 Ryan looks at him, wide-eyed and dumb. “You gotta stop doing that or I’m actually gonna drop your baby one day.” 

Shane lets out the breath he was holding and crosses the room to take Ruth from Ryan. “I think it’s nap time.” He grabs her half-filled bottle from this morning off the coffee table and hands it to her, carrying her to her room. He sets her in her crib and looks her in the eye, pointing a finger at her. “Please be quiet for a little bit and don’t ruin this for me,” he whispers to her. “Daddy is gonna try to get your Papa to stay with us forever.”

When he walks back into the living room, Ryan hasn’t moved. He still looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Um, sit, please.” Shane gestures towards the couch.

Ryan listens, and Shane sits down next to him, their thighs only an inch or two apart, and it’s hard to focus when that’s the thing his brain has decided to fixate right now—

“Did you mean it?” Ryan spares him from trying to restart the conversation. He loves him for it. 

“Yes,” Shane says, not wanting Ryan to doubt him for one second. “I was...I was thinking yesterday, about everything. About _us._  And,” he meets Ryan’s gaze. “You do realize we’re practically dating, right?”

Ryan wheezes, breaking the eye contact. “You — I, ha, um.” He looks at Shane from under his lashes, his shoulders hunched. Shane doesn’t censor his thoughts anymore when he thinks _you are so fucking beautiful._  “Are we?” 

Shane is suddenly struck with the fear that Ryan doesn’t feel what he does, that Shane has been making up all of the signs that point to Ryan liking him too. “I mean, we kind of are, aren’t we? But—” 

“Do  _you_ want to be? Like, for real?”

Shane feels like they’re teenagers, everything they’re saying sounds so cheesy and emotionally constipated at the same time.

“Yeah,” Shane says, pushing past his nervousness. “Yeah, I really think I do.”

“I,” And Ryan laughs, leaning back on the couch and pressing his palms into his eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two years, Shane.”

Shane’s heart feels like it’s trying to catch up to a marathon runner.

Ryan continues, removing his hands from his face and looking into Shane’s eyes, “And then you had to go off and have a daughter that I fell in love with too.”

Shane leans into his space, can’t help it, he feels like a magnet has suddenly pulled him there, and cups Ryan’s cheek. “You’re making me blush, Bergara.” He strokes his thumb across Ryan’s stubble. “And I’m sure Ruthie would be too.”

Ryan laughs, genuine and not as self-deprecating as the last one. “How did you get her to go down? I know for  _sure_ that it isn’t even close to nap time.”

“I have my ways,” he says, silently thanking Ruth with everything in him, and closes the gap between him and Ryan’s lips. 

“Took you long enough,” Ryan says when Shane pulls away. “I literally called myself Ruth’s other dad the other day and I still wasn’t positive you got the hint.”

Shane splutters. “It was hypothetical!”

“Hypothetical my  _ass_.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this could eventually become a series as Ruth gets older. We shall see when inspiration strikes again!
> 
> Kudos and comments are nice? You can also yell at me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesau.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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